


So Close

by QueenDollopHead



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Canon, F/M, Rape/Non-con - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-19 22:06:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1485772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenDollopHead/pseuds/QueenDollopHead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Slade continues in his efforts to make Oliver Queen suffer for his actions on the Island</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Close

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place after episode 2.19 "The Man Under the Hood". Canon compliant, he is still in a relationship with Sara, but just has the added hints of possible feelings that Oliver has for Felicity, as well as a few other small liberties.
> 
> Slade is an awful person, and so am I.

“ _I know you hear me, Oliver,_ ” came Slade’s gruff voice through his ear piece.

The man who had come to go by “Deathstroke” was correct, Oliver had heard everything he had said over the last fifteen minutes. In fact, he was hanging on every word, but only because he had to listen. He didn’t _want_ to hear anything he had to say, starting with his opening line of ‘You really need to start keeping a better eye on your women, Oliver’.

When Sara, Laurel, and his mother and sister turned out to be alright, Oliver realized that the only other person he could be talking about was Felicity. Felicity, who should have been the first on his mind, who was supposed to be visiting Barry in the hospital. His fears were later confirmed when Slade began to talk to her.

_“You really do look much better without your glasses,”_ he had remarked, mostly for Oliver.

“ _You’re going to regret this,_ ” Felicity spoke as bravely as she could, but Oliver head the telltale tremble over the line.

“ _I doubt it,_ ” her captor replied.

After that, Oliver had set out to find them. He boarded his motorcycle and was now desperately driving around Starling City, through the glades, anywhere and everywhere, hoping to find some kind of trace of her.

“ _Oliver, I sure hope you haven’t put us on hold for a more important call,_ ” the monster continued.

“Digg, where is she?” Oliver barked. As soon as he left, he had put Diggle on the line, but only so that he could help him trace them.

“ _I can’t find her._ ”

“ _They can’t find you_.”

Oliver’s hands tightened around the handlebars of his motorcycle. “What do you want, Slade?”

He heard the man in question sigh on the other end of the line. “ _You really ought to know by now, I shouldn’t have to keep explaining it to you,”_

“It’s been six years, Slade,” he whispered harshly.

“ _Maybe for you, but not for me,_ ” Slade returned. “ _I promised that I would make you suffer, and I am good on my word.”_

Oliver remained silent, listening to the transmission in hopes of hearing something, _anything_ that would give him a clue as to where he was keeping her. But Slade didn’t allow him the silence for long. “ _Such lovely skin, too,”_ He heard Felicity let out a startled squeak. “ _Breathtaking, really._ ”

“ _Don’t touch me!_ ”

“Don’t. Touch her.”

“ _Too late,_ ” Slade jeered. “ _Pale… soft… flawless skin. Like porcelain.”_

“Slade, I swear to God-”

“ _And probably just as breakable,_ ”

“Let her go,” he ordered.

“ _Come find me, Oliver,_ ” Slade countered. “ _Come stop me._ ”

_I’m trying._ Oliver thought desperately. _I’m trying, Felicity._ He sped through the city, waiting anxiously for Diggle to just _tell him where she is_ and he’d be there in a minute.

“ _Is this a sight you’ve seen before, Oliver?”_ he heard Felicity’s breath quicken as the monster spoke. Oliver refused to answer, refused to think about what Slade was implying. “ _Allow me to specify,_ ” he offered. “ _Felicity, laid out before you, wide desperate eyes staring up at you…”_

“ _Oliver, please…_ ” Felicity’s voice barely above a whisper.

“Stop.”

_“ **Naked.** Perky, round breasts, legs spread, waiting…”_

“Slade, don’t you dare…”

“ _Please don’t,_ ” her voice cut in. “ _I’m begging you…please, just don’t…”_ Felicity ranted, struggling could be heard on the line.

“ _Her tiny wrists, enclosed in only one of your hands, she’s so small…”_

“Slade…” he warned once more. He heard a wet noise, and the distinct sound of Felicity whimpering. “Diggle?” he pleaded, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“ _I’m sorry, I’ve tried everything,”_ his heart sank. “ _Even Sara tried, the audio signal is clear but there’s no way to trace it._ ” Oliver sighed. The one person who would be able to track the signal is the very person who they’re trying to find.

Slade’s voice broke his chain of thought. “ _My, my, this is interesting…”_ he muttered thoughtfully. “ _I wasn’t expecting such a tight little **virgin**._ ”

“Get away from her, _now_!” Oliver roared, the engine of the motorcycle echoing him.

“ _Oliver,”_ Felicity. “ _I’m so, so sorry…”_ It was outrageous to him that she was apologizing, after all, it was him who was failing her, not the other way around. But, Oliver knew her too well. She was sorry that she had been caught, sorry that she was hurting him, even if indirectly, but most of all sorry that he had to hear going through this.

“ _You can’t imagine how warm she is, how tight she is just around my fingers,”_ he marveled, his even breaths in direct contrast with Felicity’s. “ _If only you could see her, how scared she is, so scared, and yet so **turned on**.”_

_“No!”_ Felicity protested. And Slade, the bastard, _laughed_ in response. Oliver listened as he heard rustling on the line, then the sound of metal falling to the floor. He assumed it to be Slade’s belt. Did the man even bother to take off his mask?

“Let her go,” Oliver pleaded.

“ _No can-do, **old friend** ,”_ he drawled, sarcasm dripping from his words. “ _You took Shado from me, so now I’m taking her._ ”

More struggling, quickened movements, and then Slade’ groan as he slipped into her writhing body. “ _Oh **yes** … perfect,_” Felicity let out a cry akin to that of a wounded animal. If he ever had any doubts about killing Slade, they were long gone now. “ _Shhhh, shhhh,_ ” the man cooed in mock comfort. Oliver imagined him reaching up- dear God he hoped that he had removed his rough leather gloves earlier- and caressing her face, the ironic image sickening him.

Felicity, so good, so genuine, and so innocent, being corrupted by the darkness and cruelty that was Slade. No one deserved this less than she did, and it was all his fault for involving her in the first place.

Suddenly, he heard Slade’s breath quicken. The rapid sounds of flesh on flesh and the frequent metal sound of his belt flapping lamely with his thrusts. Felicity’s screams reached his ears, screams for him to stop, to slow down, screams of _it hurts_.

She deserved to have her first time be romantic, with someone who cared about her. She deserved to have someone gently strip her, and himself, and take careful preparations to make her feel good and comfortable. Fond touches, gentle coos of appreciation, and kisses everywhere, worshipping her beautiful, mostly unscarred body. A slow pace that she could adjust to, that she could actually come to enjoy once the pain cleared away. Oliver would have been honored to have been that man, but he tells himself he would be okay with any man taking her virginity so long as they cared for her.

But no. Instead, she was being forcibly taken by a demon of his past, screaming as he took her with not nearly enough preparation. After a while, her screams stopped, turning into the occasional sob and the shattered moans that he knew she couldn’t help.

Finally, Slade howled as he spent in her. The man rustled about, presumably adjusting himself, and whispered to his captive. “ _Good girl,_ ” he admired. “ _The pleasure is all mine, really,_ ” laughed the insufferable bastard.

“ _Oh, and Oliver,_ ” he waited for the monster to continue. “ _You should have seen the look in her eyes, absolutely delightful._ ”

“You’re a dead man, Slade,”

“ _-especially the spark of hope in them when we heard you drive by, **twice**_.”

Oliver nearly tipped over his motorcycle. He was so close, and he had failed to get to her in time, twice! “Diggle?” he prayed again.

“ _I’m working on it,_ ” his friend’s voice chimed.

“ _Until next time, Oliver,”_ Slade sang. “ _Goodbye, Felicity,_ ” And then the line went dead.

Oliver pulled over onto the side of a random side street. He ripped his helmet off and chucked to the ground next him. He sat there with his head in his hands, his mind a swirling mess, until Diggle finally found what they were looking for.

“ _Two blocks East, big warehouse, can’t miss it_ ,” Oliver nodded in confirmation, not that anyone could see it. He sped off in the direction Diggle told him, and, true to his word, there was the big warehouse. The warehouse that Oliver drove past once before the sexual assault, and once during. Not once did he think she could be in there… but then again, he wasn’t _really_ thinking. Still, he mentally kicked himself as he pulled up to the building and dismounted.

He ran inside and froze instantly, sure enough, there was Felicity. Her back was facing him, covered in small cuts and scratches, probably from the poorly leveled cement floor. “Felicity?” he called, rushing to her side. Gently, he turned her over. She had been crying, the dried evidence left their trails on the side of her face, and when she met his gaze, fresh tears fell from her eyes and traced a new path.

Despite that, she made her best effort to smile at him, even as he wiped away her tears. “Diggle, I found her,” he saw that she was clutching her blouse from that evening to her chest, and her wrists were encircled with red marks, thankfully they didn’t appear broken. He also couldn’t help but notice the hand-shaped mark that Slade left on her hip. He had no doubt that both would leave nasty bruises, bruises that wouldn’t heal for a few weeks.

Finding her glasses not far beyond her head, he carefully slipped them onto her face and smiled sadly at her. He tried so hard to prevent her from seeing him cry, but it was hard to look into her broken eyes and not feel overwhelming sympathy and guilt for her. This girl who put so much faith in him, was damaged. He failed her.

Cautiously, he gathered her into his arms and let him curl against him. Before long, she was clutching the material that covered his chest and sobbing once more. He held her as tightly as he could without hurting her, fearing what would happen if her ever let her go again. His chin resting on the top of her head, he secretly cried tears of his own as he murmured to her over and over again. “ _I’m sorry,_ ” he kissed the top her head and proceeded to stroke her hair. “I’m so, _so_ , sorry.”


End file.
